


The Toothpaste Story

by Gusiruli



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: AoKaga Day, M/M, Masturbation, and silly happenings that could only happen to dumb teenagers like aomine daiki, aokaga - Freeform, aokaga action too ofc, but basically there'll be some, but prob not penetrative sex sorry guys, i'll update the tags when I write the rest of the parts, jersey exchanging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 12:49:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6805228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gusiruli/pseuds/Gusiruli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Aomine and Kagami are still having a rocky relationship until Kuroko makes them exchange their team jerseys and it leads to Kagami discovering Aomine freaking sucks at doing laundry. </p><p>Oh, and both finally deal with the sexual tension they were choosing to ignore. Despite everybody else almost being able to cut it with a knife.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is gonna be another one of my unnecessary intros to a story. Hope you at least enjoy it a bit lmao.  
> Nothing much to the story yet though.
> 
> Happy AoKaga day?
> 
>  
> 
> Dedicated to my Line baes, as usual. Because they make me wait for their fics as much as I wait for theirs, but we still love each other. Most of the time.

There was the sound of the whistle and the noise in the gymnasium lulled to a silence. The referee’s right fist raised in the air as his other arm stretched out in front of him, palm facing down, holding both the players and the crowd’s attention. The clock was called to a stop and Touo’s coach, their referee for the day, brought down his fist behind his head.

“White 10, personal foul: Charging! Ball to Touo!”

The entire gymnasium exploded. Roars of indignation, cheers, reproaches and even squeals flew over the court in all directions through the overheated, humid air.

 _…I can’t believe this! His fourth foul!…_  
_…One more and he’s out, right?..._  
_…Yeah…_

_…Wooh! Pummel them, Touo!..._

_… Seirin!! Don’t mind, don’t mind!..._

_…That bastard did it on purpose…_  
_…No way, he definitely charged at him just now…_  
_…Oh, really? Same as the previous three times, right?!..._  
_…You wanna go, huh?!..._

_…Referee, are you blind?!_

_…Bullshit! This is fixed because it’s the Touo’s coach!..._

_…Kyaaaah!!! Aomine-kun!!! Look over here!..._

_…Kagami! You can do it!..._

 

Rumors were scary.  
It wasn’t exactly a secret, but the now common Seirin vs Touo practice matches gathered more and more of an audience every time.

The training meetups started shortly after the Winter Cup and were held once a month, alternating the gymnasium between Seirin’s and Touo’s, and having either Riko or Katsunori Harasawa, Touo’s team coach, act as referees. Even Riko’s father had made a few appearances.

Said matches were made possible thanks to some behind-the-scenes plotting by the two females in each team who, against all odds, had stricken a strange love/hate relationship no one dared mention aloud. Just in case. God knows a personalized menu (be it a food or an exercise one) made by either of them could be a player’s doom.

In any case, since both teams had unsurprisingly gained a reputation at the tournament as the “monster rivals”, once a few people had caught wind of the first practice games taking place, the information had run wilder than gunpowder, just by word of mouth. And social networks. All the same.

They had become a must-see event for basketball fans who fancied the rivalry (or any other aspect of the game) and an opportunity for other schools to gauge their future opponents and study techniques and potential weaknesses. Even a few reporters had started to dedicate a few lines to the monthly matches on the local papers.

Right then, outraged shouting from the court raised over the rowdy background noise, announcing the public’s favorite event: “the clash of the aces”, as some had already dubbed it. For them, how Touo’s number 5 managed to rile up the hot-headed ace in one way or another at every match never got old. The Seirin player was already up on the other’s face with a fistful of his black jersey as the tanned teen stuck his pinky in his ear and looked to the side with a bored expression.

“You made me foul!! AGAIN!! You fucking asshole, what is wrong with you today?!!”

“Tch. I dunno whatcha talking about. You’re just clumsy. Leggo of me already, Bakagami!”

Kagami did, but not without delivering a harsh push back in disgust, turning to face the man in charge of refereeing. -“Harasawa!!…-coach! Ehhh… -san! Please, reconsider!”

“Kagami-kun, he was already in position in front of you when you jumped and hit him on the torso.” - As usual, the man’s voice was smooth and his handsome face, stern. Kagami and the rest had found they quite liked his quiet, no-nonsense attitude dictating the game. No offense to their Riko and her abilities, but this man garnered a different kind of respect from the Seirin players, especially after learning he had been part of Japan’s national team. He looked the part, unlike one overprotective parent they knew.

“But he moved forwards just now, and his left foot was still in the air!”

“I know, Kagami-kun. It was not very skillfully done, but he ‘drew a charge’* out of you and that is a strategy anyone can use. I know you are right, but only because I am familiar with Aomine’s movements and speed on the court. We did agree we would referee these matches as any other umpire would and I am afraid any other person would not have noticed. Anything else?” - Harasawa barely raised an eyebrow, but it was enough to make the teen understand he was quite tired of dealing with them both for the day and he should back down. - “No… I mean; no, sir!”

The coach sighed as the redhead turned around grumbling under his breath. When he saw the players in their respective positions, he raised his hand again and let it drop, signaling the re-start of the last 5 minutes left in the game.

Kagami lowered his stance in defense against the dark haired menace in front of him and growled.  
“If you make me foul again and get me kicked out of the match, I’ll hit you so hard it’ll make your ancestors dizzy, Ahomine!”

“Hah! I want to see you try, Bakagami!”

The bored look on Aomine’s face was already a thing of the past. The midnight blue eyes were back to their usual undiluted intensity, though they’d had an almost angered glint to them all day. The crooked smirk they all had started to associate to their matches was back too, sign that the player was having… _fun._

All in all, quite the scary combination. Any lesser man would have turned tail at the first scathing look, and Kagami did feel the hint of a shiver run down his back, but he was well over feeling scared of Aomine Daiki. It was a shiver of pure excitement, the altercation already forgotten. Mostly.

Kagami just didn’t know what Aomine’s problem was that day. Right from the beginning of the game, the other ace had antagonized anyone that had crossed his path, but especially Kagami. Yes, he had made a habit of annoying and teasing Kagami whenever they were in each other’s presence, but it had never been like this before. His offense was more aggressive than usual, moves explosive in their suddenness, and there wasn’t a trace of his characteristic fluid and otherworldly techniques. The Touo power forward had even gained a few fouls of his own bulldozing through the court as he was. And practically every player on said court had gained their fair share of bruises.

This lead to the rest of said players cleverly holding back on passing to their aces for the moment.

Kagami snarled. It just wasn’t any fun if he didn’t get to touch the ball.  
His blood boiled and his skin prickled. Sweat dripped down the side of his face and fuck if that wasn’t gross. His clothes stuck to his body and the soles of his feet burned from the constant change of direction. He wanted to punch the face of the bastard in front of him so, so badly. He wanted to show him he wasn’t the one in control. Aomine couldn’t bring shit from his personal life into the court they battled in. Kagami wouldn’t let him get away with it.  
He no longer knew he panted from anger or exertion.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kagami spied Momoi, Kuroko and Riko talking to each other and looking at the both of them with considerable frowns. It wasn’t helping his mental state.

He was losing his temper and unfortunately for him (as he was Kagami’s kind of emotional emergency break) Kuroko’s participation on the matches had been kept to a minimum; they couldn’t give Touo any more chances to get used to him. They had already lost a great deal of future opportunities at beating them during their last official game by using Kuroko’s ‘Misdirection Overflow’ and it was going to prove difficult defeating them again at the next prefectural meeting. Or any others. They knew leaving Kuroko out could be counterproductive in the long run, as his return to the court might bring even more attention to his person, but it was a risk they were willing to take, since any other options didn’t anticipate better results. Hopefully Touo would “forget” how Kuroko moved and his new training would be enough to throw them off. _Hopefully._

In the end, the last 5 minutes passed without neither of the aces touching the ball again and anyone in the court could almost see the angry fumes emanating from the redhead as he stomped towards the center of the court next to his teammates to line up for the final score announcement.

“Touo, 68! Seirin, 60! The winner of the match is Touo High School!”

As the crowd roared around them, Kagami couldn’t help but think that was only an 8 point difference. They were improving.

He immediately cringed, remembering that Seirin had only won two games so far, both practically by luck and the smallest point difference. Also, while they counted with their usual lineup, Touo had had to restructure its team after the third years had retired, so their new members were previously second-string members or bench warmers. Never mind the fact that just fending off Aomine’s plays on the court took up most of their stamina, effort and strategy.

The referee called for the traditional final greeting between the teams, and they were off. As Kagami rose from his bow, he caught a pair of round blue eyes staring purposely at him on his immediate vicinity.

“The hell do you want?” - Cue sharp stab to his ribs.

“I don’t appreciate you taking your frustration out on me, Kagami-kun, remember that.” – His only response was a wheezy growl. – “Momoi-san, Riko-san and I have been talking and we’ve concluded we need to do something about today’s commotion. We are getting more and more media coverage and we want to portray the image of a… ‘healthy rivalry’, for public’s image sake.

Raising one of his eyebrows, Kagami countered. - “So?”

“So we think Kagami-kun and Aomine-kun should exchange jerseys for today.”

“WHAT?!” – Kagami’s shout momentarily echoed through the gymnasium as he stared slack-jawed into Kuroko’s deadpan face.

He looked for any telling twitch, any sign on the shorter male’s face that would give away the bad joke, but as usual, he found nothing except for a slightly malicious twinkle on his icy pools. Disgruntled, he glanced across the court looking for the other mentioned male, finding him in an already heated argument with the pink haired stand-in mom.

He didn’t look like he was winning.

Still looking at the frustrated arm and hand gestures he was making, Kagami tried a bit of… ‘whining’ of his own. He knew the moment he locked gazes with Kuroko again there would be no chance of him coming out victorious, but he still had to try.

“Is it really necessary? I mean, no one around here seems to care ab-”  
“ _Kagami-kun._ ”

Ah. Seems like the commandeering voice was enough on itself to pummel his last resistance to the ground too. And was that Riko cracking her knuckles by the bench while looking at him? He sighed in defeat and turned towards Kuroko, silently agreeing. That was not a petulant pout on his face. Nope.

… Goddamnit.

After such a bullshit game he was definitely not in the mood to face Aomine, never mind talking to him and/or exchanging. Fucking. Uniform. Jerseys. The only thing he wanted was his fist and Aomine’s crunching nose to go out on a date and shed a little blood. Could anyone really blame him? True, Aomine’s usual taunts and jeers on court managed to reel him up every time, making his blood boil and his guts clench uncomfortably, but never before had he been as angry with him as today.

Not that he’d ever say it aloud to anyone, but Kagami actually caught himself thinking one Aomine Daiki would be… fun enough to be around sometimes if he didn’t act as such an asshole. With their obvious shared interest in basketball, Kagami’s blood thrived just imagining the possible one-on-ones they could be playing, nothing like the first one they played when they met and Kagami simply wasn’t up to Aomine’s level just yet. But Aomine’s surly moods seemed to especially make an appearance around Kagami for some reason, which in turn made Kagami snap right back at him, making all chances of semi-friendly dialogue go down the drain. Aomine Daiki was not interested in a friendship with him, if his attitude was anything to go by, especially seeing how the bastard acted around Kuroko, Kise, Momoi or even… Nigou. The fact that Aomine held a dog in higher regard than the redhead oddly frustrated him to no end. It probably had to do with wanting to be acknowledged as an equal by another great player, but Kagami had recently caught himself craving Aomine’s eyes on him too, to monopolize his thoughts even just a little. He wanted his existence to be a bigger part on the other’s life, and that frankly surprised him. He hadn’t ever thought he would display this strange type of jealousy over a fellow player. Some late-night introspection coveted by the darkness of his room had revealed a certain undeniable attraction, but he hadn’t been sure he was prepared to accept the consequences of that realization.

The sudden sharp pricks of a nasty glare on the back of his head brought him back to reality and he turned to seek the owner. Speaking of the devil, there he was, snarling at Kagami as if he was the sole responsible of their shared misfortune. Dark eyes boring into his, Kagami stood his ground as he watched the irate teen stomp his way until he was barely two steps away.

However, Aomine simply stood in front of him, not saying a word, and Kagami was not feeling very inclined to be the trigger for another screaming match, especially with Kuroko’s menacing fingers so close to his torso. The silent glare match continued awkwardly, calling the attention of the dispersing audience and making confused murmurs arise.

As the commotion grew, Aomine threw one last rebellious glare towards his former shadow and, with a disdainful click of his tongue, he threw his right arm behind his neck, grabbing the back of his black jersey and dragging it upwards and over his head, swiftly revealing dark glistening skin stretched over subtle abs.

Kagami refused to let his eyes fixate on that particular patch of skin for longer than necessary and, by the time the disheveled head of Aomine reappeared, he had already managed to tear his gaze away from it in time to catch the jersey being thrust out to him.

He went to grab it just to have it pulled out of his reach at the last second. The dark haired bastard was sporting an `I’m-better-than-you-because-I-took-it-off-first’ smirk (Kagami just _knew_ it), hip slightly jutted to one side as he shifted his weight from two legs to a single one. The high arch of raised brow only added to his already cocky expression.

“Are you in such a hurry to get your dirty hands on it? I thought this was an exchange.”

Verging on the limit of his almost inexistent patience, Kagami opted to ignore him before he really threw himself at Aomine, fists first. He’d take his petty revenge in another way. Hiding his smirk by lowering his head, he crossed his arms in front of himself to grab the hem of his uniform t-shirt on opposite sides and pulled upwards, immediately feeling the change in temperature on his damp skin. It was slightly more difficult for him to take off his shirt in that manner, as it tended to catch on his shoulders, but it would be worth it. The crowd cheered as they brusquely snatched the jerseys out of each other’s hand, and Kagami felt rewarded seeing Aomine’s fuming face as he realized the jersey he’d been given was inside out and it would require him to set it back straight. Small victories.

Reluctantly, both males re-dressed. As his head passed through the folds of the clothing item, the first thing Kagami noticed was the scent. Overpowering sour musk with the barest hint of refreshing mint (probably his shower gel) assaulted his nostrils, making him scrunch his nose at the unfamiliarity. As the cotton settled around his frame, the second thing he noticed was the by then cool wetness of another person’s sweat. _Ugh. Disgusting_ ; Kagami thought with a grimace. The shirt also stretched along his wider frame, somewhat uncomfortable at his chest and shoulders. He chanced a look at the other teen. Kagami’s white uniform shirt was a baggy contrast on him, seams loose around the black pants waist and his clavicles.  
He struggled to hold in his laughter at Aomine’s equal look of disgust as he held the front of Kagami’s shirt as far away from his skin and nose as possible. Probably with little success though, judging by the dark glare coming his way. _Uh-oh._

Half-expecting some acidic words, Kagami was surprised when Aomine faltered in what looked like surprise, giving a sweeping glance down Kagami’s frame and back up again before his brows furrowed and he scoffed to the side. Without another look or word, Aomine turned around and headed back to the Touo’s bench, where Momoi awaited with a bright and satisfied smile.

Kuroko pulled at Kagami’s ‘new’ jersey, wordlessly telling him to make his way towards their own bench where Coach would comment the match, to which he replied with an affirmative grunt of sorts.

Kagami spaced out at the start of Riko’s ‘congratulations for a well played game’ and trusted Furihata to summarize the mistakes and good moves she would indicate to improve the team later on. He stared non-seeing at the bleachers in front of him as he did a review of his own, replaying every movement and sensation in his mind. The vertiginous twists and turns trying to chase a dark blur, the rebound he lost for jumping one second too late, the blinding lights of the gymnasium as he looked up to aim at the basket, the gentle cotton of his jersey against his chin as he wiped a stray droplet of sweat rolling down his face in what had become an habit many players shared. See? He was doing it again, but… it smelled strangely fresh. Like,

_Mint._

_…_

_FUCK! Notmyjerseynotmyjerseynotmyjersey…_

Embarrassed panic made him chance a quick guilty glance around to see if anybody else had noticed what he had done, but no one seemed to have caught on. His relief, however, was short-lived as he noticed the male with sauce-wide eyes at the opposite end of the court and an expression just as panicked and guilty as his own. Aomine was holding the collar of Kagami’s white jersey to his chin, apparently frozen in the same familiar move that had caused Kagami’s mortification to begin with.

The Seirin player had thought himself embarrassed enough, but he couldn’t have been more wrong as his face caught fire under the other's perplexed stare. Fortunately for him, Riko chose that moment to finish her speech and sent them to the locker rooms. Kagami almost tumbled over Kuroko in his haste to run away from the uncomfortable situation and those sharp eyes at the back of his blushed neck even as he disappeared through the court doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Drawing a charge: It’s the only foul a defender can draw from the attacking opponent. (Most of the on-purpose fouls are done by the attackers). In basketball, if you have enough fouls you can be disqualified from the match, so it’s quite the advantageous skill to beat your rival if you can manage it. It’s quite difficult to do it though, because there also rules.
> 
> In this case, to “draw a charge” out of your opponent (aka, make him collide against you on purpose) both of your feet have to be set on the floor on a proper defensive position before the attacker charges and makes contact with you, you can’t be moving forward (hence why Kagami protests about Aomine’s foot being in the air and him doing the latter) and you gotta make sure you’re not on the half-circle under the hoop.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hm... lol, look who took exactly a year to post another chapter.... *coughs*  
> I have no excuses, really. Aomine didn't want to cooperate and I'm the furthest thing from a good 'porn writer' so I procastinate. A lot. Also, the rest of the year I spend in moods that don't help the inventive process and busy, so yeah.
> 
> It's a measly chapter too lmaooo I'm so sorry everybody. I regret everything.  
> I'm thinking the third part (and last) will be longer, but who the f*ck knows, am i rite. I just hope you enjoy this? 
> 
> Happy AoKaga Day!

He approached his front door and opened it carefully, as if expecting a wild beast to jump out of the house.

The hall was dark in the late evening hour, the same way the kitchen at the end of the hallway seemed to be. A tentative ‘I’m back…’ received no answer, confirming his suspicions about the house being empty.

With a huge relieved sigh, he fully entered the space, closed the door and sat on the step to carefully lace off his Jordans. Taking them with him to put away in their reserved closet space, he bounded up the stairs to his room,  left over adrenaline running amok through his body.

 _Perfect chance for a bit of solo time,_ he thought with a silly smirk.

Aomine considered himself lucky that his mother was out still, probably shopping. After the fiasco that same morning, she had chased him down around the house like a bloodhound. He had exploded, annoyed at the constant nagging, and escaped to Satsuki’s house to hide until it was time for the practice match against Seirin.

He had taken the chance to berate Satsuki for giving away the hiding place of his porn magazines to his mom, accidentally or not. She had looked properly chastised, even though she still pouted and called him a pervert, but it had been a slip of tongue on her part so she had reluctantly apologized. Even so, his mood was deemed a lost cause for the rest of the day.

Even his teammates had noticed after he had closed his locker with way more force than necessary after getting into his jersey and pants.

Granted, Aomine had not been a tremendously cheerful person during the past few years, but since the Winter Cup anyone could see he at least had calmed down considerably.

Gone were his despondent laziness and his angry outbursts. In their place, a more tranquil Aomine had appeared, one who actually came to practices and made an effort to fit the rest of the team in his plays (with various degrees of success). It wasn’t strange nowadays to find him lost in thought at certain times, trying to surreptitiously teach the first-years or even cracking a smile at their antics. Only the monthly matches managed to pull real laughter from him though, crazed as it might sound while overjoyed about the event.

He entered his room, put his sneakers away, dropped his sports bag in a corner (priorities) and threw himself back first on his bed releasing a huff.

Nowadays, staying angry required more energy than he remembered.

Maybe it was because he spent more of his energy training now, or maybe it was that he had realized it was useless to hold onto an anger based on lies.

 _The only one who can beat me is me…_ He scoffed.

And he owed it all to a certain couple of players.

Kuroko, he had missed. He truly had had a great time hanging out with the boy back in middle school and he deeply regretted what had happened, having pushed him away. Being back in touch with him had definitely improved his mood, even if all he received were acid jabs at his personality and weird pics of vanilla-themed items and foods via Line. Well, and basketball. He didn’t think he had played proper basketball since he graduated from Teikou until his former shadow had come back into his life.

And the other… Kagami Taiga.

Who would have fucking thought. When back in the day he ventured outside his neighbourhood in search for the redhead he had heard so much about and Aomine had just found quite the pathetic excuse of a basketball player, who would have thought that in just a few months the same guy, with a determination to win on pair with Kuroko’s, ridiculous strength, jumps and ability, was gonna tip his world upside down.

Even now, the tall Seirin player kept evolving and improving, making Aomine thrum with anticipation of future games to come. Stepping on the same court as Kagami had him nearly vibrating in his Jordans and Aomine couldn’t honestly remember a time where he had felt as challenged, making him want to improve in turn, making him put the effort back into a sport he had practically been born for, practically second-nature to him from a young age.

Damn, he was reluctant to admit it, but there was no way around it. If Kuroko had given basketball back to him, Kagami had returned his passion and something to look forward to for years to come.

… The same Kagami he had pissed off to death that very same day because Aomine had been angry with his mom for throwing all his porn mags out and for nagging at him about improper behaviour and untidy rooms. He did think he might have gone a bit overboard.

Ah, but what a game it had been anyway. As Kagami got angrier, his plays had become harder, more savage, and while Aomine missed the accuracy of Kagami’s usual moves, the shot of adrenaline derived from standing in front of another predator was a welcome sensation.

As if invoked by his thoughts, a deep scent caressed his nostrils. Half-familiar. Sweat and musk, like his, but also something new, something warm, and flavourful, like various spices. A scent he had learned to associate with a certain player just from marking each other on the court and especially today, when Aomine had provoked the other into committing faults just to release some of his own frustration, bringing them closer than ever. And quite the sensation it had been, too, feeling the hard block of the other male’s body clash into his, bringing all the fire his crimson eyes promised and the smell of his persona against his.

 _Disgusting. Out with it!,_ he sneered as he grew hot under the collar, throwing the jersey off next to him.

Apparently, the redhead spent quite a bit of time in the kitchen. He was living alone or something, if Satsuki’s info was correct (it always was).

Aomine remembered stealing food from his bento box during the street court volunteer job they all had done, and he kinda regretted not having a closer relationship with him if it meant being fed with delicious food. It actually was better than Sakurai’s, even if he wouldn’t admit it outloud.

But standing in Kagami’s presence just irked Aomine. Pushed the wrong buttons somehow. He couldn't stay still and his eyes couldn't seem to stop chasing after the other and it bothered him. So he took it out on the fool in the form of jabs and sneers.

They fought like children but even then Aomine thought it was kind of fun, truth be told. The redhead was easy to reel up and his reactions endlessly thrilling, in or out of the court.

His train of thought redirected itself back to the game from that evening. Flashes of white and red, pale blue disappearing on the corner of his eye, the faraway murmur of an invested crowd, the squeaks of black and red sports shoes he had ‘oh so graciously donated’ as the new owner braked and accelerated, trying to keep up with Aomine’s change of pace.

The thrumming in his body was back and the heat kept climbing, droplets of sweat starting to bead on his forehead as he got lost on the sensations of the match.

Uncontrollable energy with no physical outlet but one.

He slid his hand under the loose waistband of his pants towards his awakening erection.The satisfaction of a well-executed dribble he had employed to pass three of the Seirin seniors had him growing hard in his hand, and the image of Kagami soaring over his head had him leaking.

With his free hand, he caressed over twitching abs and down his left thigh, breath momentarily stuttering as he reached the inner portion of his thigh. He groaned as he then reached for his balls, softly fondling the tender skin.

His hand sped up, following the frantic rhythm of the images in his mind eye. The muscles of his thighs jumped as if attempting the movements, and his hips thrusted into the empty air. His grip tightened and loosened erratically, first around the base of his dick, then at the top, taking the time to stroke his thumb over his weeping head. Brushing his nail over the sensitive hole there had him moaning softly.

He was careening towards the edge at unbelievable speed.

But he needed something else. Something to complete the barrage of disconnected sensations barreling in his head.

Well, there definitely was a protagonist. He decided to give up, and focus more on him. He mentally defined the slightly crouched silhouette bouncing the ball aggressively as he looked for a way past him. The _thump, thump, thump_ of the ball echoed on the now empty space of his mind and it seemed to synchronize with his heartbeat, expanding through his body. He followed the ball’s movements to the big hand pushing at it, forearm muscles in relief, tense shoulder moving with the forceful expanding of his wide torso, strong neck, set jaw, flashing eyes. Aomine breath stuttered, abs tightening and releasing.

No longer in control, dragged by the intense sensations, Aomine was surprised to see the Kagami in his mind's eye let the ball drop on the next bounce and extend the very same hand towards him. He approached, grabbing one of Aomine’s forearms in one hand, keeping him in place. The other cupped Aomine’s groin unashamedly, direct in his every action like his real counterpart. Aomine gasped and tightened even more the grip on his dick. Kagami’s face was drawn into a smirk he hadn’t seen before as he rubbed teasingly up and down his most sensitive place, Aomine copying the movement on himself. He twisted on the bed, his neck a taut arch, letting hot puffs of air loose, stretching and clenching his whole body chasing the pleasant burn while wrinkling up his bedcovers. If he were standing, his knees would probably quake and waver and, as if it had actually happened, Kagami steadied him and pulled him closer by his arm. _Hey, now. Don’t run away._ He breathed right by his ear, taunting, raising goosebumps along his neck. Aomine sneered, thrilled nevertheless. He wanted to bite the insolent mouth that had spouted such words even as his left hand squeezed his balls and his right twisted right under the head of his erection, so very close to coming.

His undoing, however, was the scent Kagami brought with him, encompassing and deep and making the experience so real Aomine could feel the roughness of Kagami’s hands on his clammy skin, the stirring of his short hair from Kagami’s breath on the shell of his ear, the heat radiating from his chest and the delicious pressure on his groin, making him erupt so fiercely he felt his cum reach the top of his chest.

He lay panting, the mental image fizzing into non-existence as he cooled down. He definitely hadn’t expected such an extreme reaction and he wondered the cause of it. How the fuck had it gotten so real, where had the scent come fro- “FUCK. _ME.”_

Opening his eyes, there it was, right there. The offending piece of clothing at fault.

In his thrashing and twisting, he had ended up curling on his left side, practically burying his face into the loaned white jersey as he was consumed by the fantasy. To say he was embarrassed was an understatement, but no one would ever know.

“FUCK!!” - Unless he didn’t get rid of the splatter of cum on it. _Godfuckingdamnitall._

Now he definitely couldn’t throw it into the dirty laundry basket for his mom to see. Guess he’d have to brave the washing machine by himself.

The sounds of keys rattling at the front door made him jerk up into a sitting position. _Can I get a FUCKING BREAK?!_ \- he screamed internally as he hid the jersey under the bed for later and grabbed a change of clothes and one of his older Touo jersey’s from the closet before sprinting towards the bathroom and locking himself in for a long nice shower before his mom caught him and sour his mood again.

He’ll throw his old jersey with his pants in the basket so his mom won’t be suspicious, but with her at home he’ll probably have to handwash the Seirin one, and he wasn't looking forward to it.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't given up on this fic, promise.  
> (I need Jey to kick my ass to write it after my exams.)
> 
> Thank you all for your comments and kudos, I appreciated them a lot in the first chapter!
> 
>  
> 
> This is for my aokaga baes, as usual (but less for Letti now because she has forsaken us hahahah. Jey is the true loyal <3).


End file.
